As the three of them entered the hall, a young woman appeared on the threshold of one of the rooms communicating with it. Her natural slimness was emphasized by a gown of black, and this sombre garb threw into relief the fair hair which was massed heavily above her delicate features. It needed, perhaps, the youthful enthusiasm of the captain to call her beautiful; but her appearance had something of fragile charm which conferred a distinction rare among German women. She stood there, a little drawn back from her first emergence, contemplating them with eyes that evidently sought to measure the potentiality for mischief in these forced guests. Her attitude appealed dumbly for protection, so forlorn and frail and timid was it as she shrunk back in the doorway.
“Introduce us, Jordan!” whispered the battalion-commander to his subordinate. “On est civilisé, quoi donc!”
The young captain had lost a considerable amount of his assurance. Rather flustered, he saluted and pointed to his superior.
“Commandant!” then, turning to the other, “Doctor!” he blurted, clumsily.
Their hostess bowed slightly with a pathetic little smile as the two officers saluted. The doctor advanced a step.
“Have no fear, gnädige Frau,” he said politely in German. “The war is over and France does not avenge itself upon women. No harm will come to you.”
Her face lit up.
“Ach, you speak German!”
“I studied in Germany in my youth, gnädige Frau, and I have not quite forgotten the language.”
She smiled at him.